


Two Men and a Bottle

by Ywain Penbrydd (penbrydd)



Series: A Comedy of Assholes (Rhapsody, etc.) [28]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Drinking & Talking, Friendship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 09:45:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9317243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penbrydd/pseuds/Ywain%20Penbrydd
Summary: Fenris brings a bottle. Anders gets the wrong impression, gives Fenris a hard time.---"You thought if you got me drunk, I'd offer you my incredible body?""Mage!" Fenris squawked, looking offended at the very idea. "Why do I bother?" he huffed."Because I'm charming, and the corpses don't laugh at your jokes." Anders finally set down his pen in the rack. "Really, Fenris, is it an embarrassing rash? I've probably got a cream for that."





	

**Author's Note:**

> For Zillah, who wanted 'Fenris and Anders just hanging out and being bros'. This is probably somewhere in mid-to-late Act 2, but definitely before the library scene in Rhapsody.

The clinic had been quiet, that day -- just a few rashes and a couple of scrapes -- and the first Anders was aware of someone else in the room was at the sound of the heavy glass bottom of a bottle hitting a table. Templars made more noise just crossing a road. Still, that sound was one he knew, one that, somewhere in the back of his head, he'd expected. Just not here.  
  
The confusion on his face was obvious as he looked up from the paragraph he was re-writing for the seventh time, heart hammering in his chest, and found... Fenris. Which he was not expecting.  
  
"That's a lot of bribe. What'd you do, and how hard is it going to be to set it right with Artie?" Anders smiled, wryly.  
  
"It is not a bribe," Fenris insisted, looking for words and sputtering for a moment. "It is-- I thought-- Obviously I was mistaken."  
  
"You thought I needed a drink?" Anders tried, not looking any less confused. At least he was fairly sure that Fenris, of all people, hadn't announced his arrival with a bottle for the reasons Howe used to. ... unless he had. "You thought if you got me drunk, I'd offer you my incredible body?"  
  
"Mage!" Fenris squawked, looking offended at the very idea. "Why do I bother?" he huffed.  
  
"Because I'm charming and the corpses don't laugh at your jokes." Anders finally set down his pen in the rack. "Really, Fenris, is it an embarrassing rash? I've probably got a cream for that."  
  
"There are no longer corpses in my foyer. Artemis didn't like them, so we had to move them out. We sprinkled their ashes in the back garden, so it would be less like losing a friend." The corner of Fenris's mouth pulled up sharply. "And when do I ever have an embarrassing rash? It seems like that would involve removing my trousers around the sort of people I avoid being pantsless in front of."  
  
"Wet leather," Anders replied, and Fenris winced. "Okay, so, you're not here to get me naked -- you're not, right? And you're not here because you got naked for the wrong people. And you're ... well, even if it is something with Artie, you're not bribing me to fix it. So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"  
  
"I thought we might drink together." Fenris paused. "Without you losing any more coin to me."  
  
"So, you thought I needed a drink." Anders repeated his earlier thought.  
  
Fenris wavered, head tipping back and forth. "Yes."  
  
Anders gestured to a nearby stool, loaded with rolled bandages. "Just put those on the table in the corner. And be careful showing up in the middle of the day, bringing me drinks. I might get the wrong ideas."  
  
"You already have the wrong ideas," Fenris sighed, moving the bandages, so he could take the seat.  
  
Anders laughed and got up to grab some clean glassware from his potion-brewing supplies. "Worse ideas. Did I ever tell you how... things happened with me and Cormac?"  
  
"Is this going to be disgusting?" Fenris asked, squinting suspiciously as he opened the bottle and took a seat.  
  
"No, that part comes later." Anders grinned, and retook his seat, offering Fenris a flask. "Mmm, and so did I. Again and again and a--"  
  
" _Mage!_ "  
  
Anders smirked, utterly unrepentant, and held out his own flask, so Fenris could pour. "So, I was trying to die. Well, no, that's overstating it. I just wasn't trying _not_ to. You know how that is."  
  
Fenris grunted, non-committally, and sipped his rum. He'd gotten an Antivan import, this time, hoping it would be better than the stuff from the Hanged Man, but this was an entirely different beverage. Not bad, though.  
  
"But, he showed up one night with a bottle and made me go to sleep. And then he bought me breakfast. And then, a couple days later, he showed up with dinner and a bottle. And then, it got to where he was just... there, most nights. And he almost always brought something." Anders shrugged, a fond smile playing at the edges of his lips. "So, yeah. Be careful showing up with a bottle." He didn't mention it was also what Howe used to invite him into dark corners of Vigil's Keep for unspeakably delightful evenings. He didn't want to think too much about Howe, as excellent as all that had been. He couldn't go back.  
  
"It's the food, not the drink," Fenris decided. "And you'll notice I've never bought you food."  
  
"Well, I'll keep that in mind, in case you ever do." Anders smiled slyly. "So, how are things with you and Artemis? You over his magic, yet? Has he become magically delicious, for you, instead of just the regular sort?"  
  
"We are happy," Fenris said, and realised he meant it. "I enjoy him, as he is, and even if I would prefer there be no more magic in Thedas... I would miss it."  
  
"Without magic, it would just be something else." Anders shrugged, leaning back against the edge of his desk.  "You know that. Explosives, flaming pitch -- the lack of magic hasn't saved the dwarves from tyranny. So, you might as well stop feeling guilty about enjoying it."  
  
"I do not feel _guilty_ ," Fenris protested, taking a swig of rum. "It is simply unusual. Not the way I thought I would come to live my life."  
  
"Yeah, well, I didn't really envision myself living in a sewer with a spirit and the taint chewing on my nerves, but here we are." Anders laughed, easily, and took a look around the room.  
  
"Why haven't you moved the clinic to somewhere less...?" Fenris gestured at the rough stone walls.  
  
"Sewery?" Anders grinned. "It's where the people need it. I don't tend to offer my services to the kind of people who would be comfortable coming up to Hightown. For a 'better' part of town, it's pretty terrifying. And nobody holds nobles accountable for anything. So, yeah, it's a sewer, but it's the sewer people are _comfortable_ in."  
  
"Hello?" a voice called from by the door.  
  
"Speaking of comfortable..." Anders got up and made his way across the room. "How can I help?"  
  
Fenris watched as Anders helped an older elven woman over to a cot, and asked about her symptoms. Maybe, as loath as he was to admit it, there was a place for magic in Thedas, after all. His mage, this mage, maybe they weren't all bad. As Cormac so often said, 'you don't piss off the healer', and as resentful as Fenris had been of the idea that some mage should be exempt from his wrath, having a healer who wasn't pissed off at him had been a benefit, thus far.  
  
Anders looked over at him, and Fenris picked up the bottle and slowly, obviously refilled the flask Anders had been drinking from, which earned him a wry smile. Fenris knew. Some days, you just needed a drink.


End file.
